


in fog, in fleece

by mothicalcreatures



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No worries, but it's open ended, it's a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23846263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothicalcreatures/pseuds/mothicalcreatures
Summary: A sudden movement caught the corner of his vision and Francis turned. Someone had crawled out of their tent… and unless his eyes were playing tricks on him (and they well could be) they were still alive. He broke away from Lady Silence to hurry toward the fallen figure, and then increased his pace further when he realized who it was.It was Jopson, shivering and underdressed on the cold shale.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Thomas Jopson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55
Collections: All Well: The Terror April 2020 Fest





	in fog, in fleece

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the All Well Fest prompt "captain."

The camp was abandoned when Francis and Lady Silence arrived. The men had moved on and the sick had been left.

It was painful that it had occurred, when Francis had tried so hard to keep that very thing from happening, but he also could not fault Little and Le Vesconte for their decision. Hard decisions had to be made.

A sudden movement caught the corner of his vision and Francis turned. Someone had crawled out of their tent… and unless his eyes were playing tricks on him (and they well could be) they were still alive. He broke away from Lady Silence to hurry toward the fallen figure, and then increased his pace further when he realized who it was.

It was Jopson, shivering and underdressed on the cold shale. Kneeling down beside him, Francis rolled Jopson over and into his lap, cradling him carefully.

Jopson’s eyes were blurry and unfocused, but there was a flicker of recognition when they landed on Francis’s face. “C-Captain?”

“I’m here, Thomas, I’m here,” Francis assured him, brushing the hair from his face.

Jopson tried to clutch at Francis’s shirt, but he barely had the strength to lift his arm. As he tried, Francis realized that several of Jopson’s fingers had started to blacken with frost bite. Francis took his hand carefully, and Jopson whimpered. He would need to get up to get any help for Jopson, but he was loath to leave him alone and exposed again.

Then a shadow fell over them, and Francis looked up to see Lady Silence crouched across from them.

“He’s alive,” Francis said. “I need to get him warm.” He gestured toward the tent close behind them.

Lady Silence pointed off in the direction they’d been headed.

“We can continue,” Francis said. “I need to find him clothes. Please, I cannot leave him.”

Lady Silence stared at him a moment longer and then she nodded and Francis sagged in relief.

Between the two of them, they were able to move Jopson back into the tent, where Francis wrapped him up as best he could before going to hunt for suitable shoes and slops for him. Jopson had cried when Francis left, but Lady Silence had agreed to wait with him until Francis returned.

When he did, he found Lady Silence attempting to get Jopson to eat some small pieces of seal to limited success, though more due to Jopson’s weakness than for his lack of trying. There were tears streaked on his cheeks and Francis’s heart clenched.

“Can you get him to sit up?” Francis asked, setting down the bundle of clothing. “I can dress him and we can move forward again.”

* * *

Thomas didn’t know what was real anymore. His mind was in a fog and it was so difficult to justify the things he was seeing against what he knew, or thought he knew.

The captain had gone, but he was here with the Inuit woman; he had been left, but his body ached as it had when he was being hauled; he was warm, yet he had fallen out in the cold. Perhaps this was what dying was.

Then he blinked his eyes open, and there was a clarity to the world that was so unfamiliar he almost didn’t recognize it. He was in a tent and wrapped in soft fur blankets. He tried to sit up, but he couldn’t get his arms to cooperate and pain shot through his hands when he tried to use them to move himself any.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he breathed heavily through the pain. Then there were footsteps and a strip of light illuminated the tent.

“Thomas…”

His breath hitched; he was hearing things, he had to be. But then a gentle hand took his and tucked it back under the blanket.

“Thomas can you hear me?”

Slowly, Thomas let his eyes flicker open. His sighed was blurred by tears, but he could still make out the figure crouched beside him.

“Captain?” His voice cracked and it sent him into a coughing fit. In an instant there was a water skin pressed to his lips and Crozier was propping up his head to help him drink.

“Not too fast now, there we are…”

Thomas didn’t think he could remember water tasting so good. “Are you really here?” he asked, once Crozier had sat back and set the water skin down.

“I am,” Crozier said, reaching out to brush back Thomas’s hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

A tear slipped from his eye, making its way down his cheek. “You left.”

Crozier shook his head. “Not by choice. I’ll tell you the whole tale once you’re well.” He paused. “Or at least more so than you are now.”

Thomas could feel himself starting to slip away again. He fought against it, but his body was simply too exhausted. Just before he slipped back under he felt Crozier’s hand on his shoulder. “Sleep now, I’ll still be here when you wake.”

* * *

Francis was true to his word; only leaving the tent once briefly to get seal meat that he cooked down into a broth that would be easier for Jopson to eat. There was also the vegetable paste that the Inuit healer had provided him, it was working wonders to cure Jopson’s scurvy, but he was hardly out of the woods yet.

When Jopson began to stir again, Francis assembled the small meal for him and went to sit at his side.

“You’re here,” Jopson murmured as he slowly blinked awake. “I thought I’d dreamt you.”

“You didn’t,” Francis assured him, gently rubbing Jopson’s arm. “I have some food here. Do you think you can manage sitting up if I help you?”

Jopson frowned, but nodded, and Francis moved forward to help get Jopson propped up on some of the extra bedding. “Mind your hands,” he murmured, which made Jopson look down and his face fell.

“Oh…”

Jopson had lost three fingers on his left hand and one on his right. It was lucky he’d kept any, given how long he must have been laying out in the cold, but Francis could understand what a blow it must be.

“They’d been hurting… I didn’t realize…” Jopson hiccuped and Francis shifted so he could draw Jopson into an embrace.

“You’ll be all right,” Francis murmured. “You’re alive, that’s what matters.”

Jopson hiccuped again, leaning into Francis’s arms, and Francis pressed a soft kiss to his hair. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to try eating on your own,” Francis continued. “But I can help you if your hands hurt too much.”

There were a few moments of silence, and Francis took to rubbing circles into Jopson’s shoulder with histhumb while he waited for his response.

“I want to try on my own,” Jopson said, determination seeping into his voice and Francis smiled.

* * *

It took some getting used to, functioning with the loss of four fingers, but between Thomas and Francis they had two full hands and could manage most things with the other's help. There was also much less worry about what Thomas could and couldn’t do with his hands in their lives among the Inuit. They were understanding, and Thomas was never asked to do more than he could handle. 

Francis’s encouragement also helped. Once Thomas had gotten past the realization that he was safe and alive and that Francis was real, they had fallen into something easy and, against all odds, happy. They’d talked, of late, about making their way down to Fort Resolution, but now Jopson found himself hesitant to give up what they’d found here. A return to England would mean leaving Francis’s company and having to find a way to survive on his own.

“Something’s been bothering you,” Francis said that evening as they lay curled together in their bed.

Thomas sighed. “It’s nothing, I… I… I suppose I just worry about what might happen if we should return to England. I’ve… I’ve been happy here and…”

“You’re worried we’d lose this if we returned to England,” Francis said, taking Thomas’s hand, twining their fingers together.

“I don’t see how we wouldn’t,” Thomas admitted. “You’d have your duties to attended to and I’d… I don’t know what work I’d be able to get.”

Francis frowned and leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Jopson’s mouth. “I would not send you away. _Should_ we chose to return, I would have you stay with me. I do not wish for you to fear for your livelihood, and, beyond that, you are incredibly dear to me and have only become more so these past months.”

Thomas felt the hot pressure of tears building behind his eyes, but they were happy tears.

“It is a difficult decision to make,” Francis continued, squeezing Thomas’s hand gently. “And not one we need to make right now. We have time.”


End file.
